


A Softer Ketterdam

by ExplicitlySimple



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Crooked Kingdom, honestly wish I had a boyfriend like this, soft birthday fluff, wesper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplicitlySimple/pseuds/ExplicitlySimple
Summary: “I know birthdays are complicated for you.” At that, Jesper snorted. Wylan continued ahead. “But I want to make today special. And before you interrupt because I see you’re about to, yes everyday with me is special, but today will be more than that. Today is all about you and how grateful I am that you exist because of this day."Jesper is turning 18 and has some thoughts. Wylan puts them to rest.





	A Softer Ketterdam

**Author's Note:**

> An attempted addition to the travesty that is the lack of fanfic in the SOC fandom. Please enjoy this self-indulgent birthday fic celebrating Jesper.

 

It was kind of frightening thinking about it. In a day, more like in a few hours that seemed like minutes that seemed like seconds that seemed like if he just _breathed the wrong way_ \- okay, he had to calm down. Breathing in slowly through his nose, Jesper stared out the large paned window built into the wall of the room.

The Kerch sky eased into the first hints of sunset. From where the manor stood, Jesper saw shadowed boats chugging through the channel, their crews silhouettes moving efficiently to settle in at the end of a day's work. In this part of town, families were sitting down at their tables to eat meals prepared all day by kitchen staff. Coachmen waxed and stabled their horses. Ships docked. People settled. The sky at this hour had lost its sharp blue vibrancy, painted instead in muted tones that softened the city.

Jesper exhaled on a quiet laugh. As if Ketterdam could ever be softened, he thought.

The thought that this city could ever be anything but the snarling, monstrous beauty that it was brought Jesper right back to the topic he wanted to avoid: his birthday. Jesper, the infallible, hyperactive, witty sharpshooter turned 18 tomorrow.

Birthdays, as far as he was concerned, were complicated. When his mother was still alive, she woke early in the morning to grind wheat for a birthday loaf of bread. It would be the best she made the entire year, because she added spices picked up from traders in the Novyi Zem markets, ones only used for special occasions. Spices that drifted through the clean country air to where he worked in the fields and that lingered on his tongue, scents promising a happy evening. And after all the farm work had been done: animals tended to and locked away, yield for the day accounted for, dinner served, the three of them would sit around the candle-lit table and share that special loaf of bread. His parents joked about how sewing new pants for their growing seed, and Jesper smiled and blushed.

Even though he tried and tried and tried, his father never perfected the loaf the way his mother had after her death. Either he added too little or too much spice or the bread was too tough or the dough never rose or it was this and that until eventually his father stopped trying. Sure, Colm did everything he could to ensure Jesper still enjoyed his birthdays, but it never created that same anticipatory joy as before when Jesper woke to the sounds of his mother kneading dough. And Jesper and his father drifted further and farther apart, until physical distance wasn’t the only thing separating them.

Then he moved to Ketterdam, and lost himself in the gambling tables and the Dregs and the money that he won and lost. Birthdays didn’t seem to weigh anything against the significance of this city. What was one measly day celebrating his birthday when everything in Ketterdam was a party or a fight? He could substitute one form of anticipatory joy for another.

After all of their frankly ridiculous schemes, Jesper was just content to be alive. While he wouldn’t admit it, there had been too many close calls. Too many instances of what if I don’t make it to the next day, next hour, minute or second. Frantically Jesper thought: what if I don’t make it to 18?

Jesper breathed in again. He made it somehow, through the skin of his teeth at times. Through his father and Kaz’s disappointment, through the gambling dens and the near death experiences. Through the highs of a successful plan and the butterflies of Wylan’s lips against his. He lived it all and now he was here to celebrate.

But would his birthday ever truly feel like a celebration?

As soon as the question came, the door creaked open. Jesper stood in his shared suite with Wylan, so the only other person who dared to come in without announcing them first would most likely be his boyfriend.  Said boyfriend quietly made his way over to the window, padding softly against the rich carpet. Jesper turned his head in acknowledgement, but Wylan stood right at his back without Jesper noticing. Pulling himself straighter, Wylan left a soft peck on Jesper’s lips before he wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. He settled his neck on Jesper’s shoulder, even if he had to strain because of the height difference.

“You’re unusually still today. The canal capture your attention that much?” Wylan joked against him. Jesper turned his head to look into Wylan’s eyes.

Jesper snorted, “I was just looking at the sky, little merchling. Reminds me of your eyes when you just wake up. 

Wylan blushed, red rising to tint his cheeks. Months later and Jesper’s compliments still affected him this way. Jesper found it endlessly endearing and appropriately distracting.

“Aw, look at that beautiful color on your cheeks. Might have to ask your mother if she can capture it in one of her paintings.” Jesper laughed at the slight pinch he felt against his side; Wylan always became so bashful whenever Jesper likened him to art.

“You make a pretty picture yourself, mister. Standing here and brooding out the window at sundown.”

Jesper turned back to look outside the window, noticing how dark it truly had become since he first stood there. The horizon darkened considerably. The moon, faithful as she was, perched high and illuminated the glimmering surface of the water. The streetlamps were on, uniform lines of ambient light spilling onto the cobblestone. This part of town was abnormally quiet, and on this day, Jesper felt a familiar itch to cross the bridge and settle back into what he knew. A violent wave of need hit him then; a need to be surrounded by the noise, the smell and the atmosphere of what he knew. To settle down not at a fine dining table, but a Makkers Wheel and gamble and drink until he forgot what this day was and what it meant and what it could never mean again.

A tightening grip on his waist grounded him. The urge to climb out the window and into the night to forget ebbed away. He remembered he was standing with his love who would never allow him to forget again. Jesper focused on the beating of Wylan’s pulse, winding his fingers around his boyfriends until their wrists overlapped. He counted steadily _one two three four, one two three four_ to steady himself. He made it. He could survive his birthday without chasing the nostalgia of repression. 

From over his shoulder, Jesper heard the quietly uttered words, “I love you, you know. And I only want today to be the best day that it can be for you.” 

Jesper turned around still wrapped in Wylan’s arms, abandoning his window view in favor of the real beauty. “Wy, every day that I am with you is the best day for me.” Wylan ducked his head into Jesper’s chest, but Jesper gently urged his face back up with a finger. “I mean it. And I am so incredibly grateful for everything you have already done for me.”

“I know birthdays are complicated for you.” At that, Jesper snorted. Wylan continued ahead. “But I want to make today special. And before you interrupt because I see you’re about to, yes everyday with me is special, but today will be more than that. Today is all about you and how grateful I am that you exist because of this day. Without today, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Wylan leaned forward, lips landing gently on Jespers. He slowly traced his hands from Jespers waist, up his back, over his back, then scratched softly against the fuzz of Jesper’s head. Wylan kissed to say everything he couldn't: _thank you for being born, thank you for existing, thank you for staying. I know this is a hard day for you, allow me._  

Jesper responded just as gently, if not more. His kisses today were softer, full of all the things he mouth stopped him from saying. His tongue did the talking, but if it had a sound, it would follow the baritone of Jesper’s voice sounding like this: _no, thank you. Thank you for allowing me to stay. Thank you for wanting me. Thank you for loving me._

Pulling back, Wylan leaned his head against Jespers chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat. It was a beautiful sound to him, lovelier than any of the business notices Jesper read or the piano music he played. Jesper was real, flesh and blood, choosing to stay in his arms on such a painful day. They talked about birthdays before and how they lost all significance for both of them. Jesper, alone and drowning. Wylan, abandoned and unloved. 

Wylan refused to allow that trend to continue. They survived too much, Jesper survived too much to not celebrate today. He could have been riddled with bullet holes or at the bottom of the filthy canal or locked in prison. But he was here, standing healthy if not a bit lovesick. And that meant something. Jesper knew it meant something too, but he still had his urges.

Disentangling himself, Wylan moved toward the door. Jesper made to follow, but a hand against his chest stopped him. After peeking out, Wylan disappeared briefly only to roll a dining cart over the carpet and into the room. Jesper eyed the cart, taking note of the multiple covered dishes and wrapped fabric on the lowest level of the cart. Scooping down, Wylan unfolded the fabric and threw it away from himself in an explosion of white. When it settled, Jesper noted with amusement the tablecloth spread out over their carpet.

“Don’t look at it like that. Come on, sit down.” Wylan motioned for Jesper to sit, then turned back to the cart. Laughing to himself, Jesper eased his long legs onto the tablecloth turned picnic blanket and watched Wylan check platters. Satisfied he found the right one, Wylan smiled down at Jesper who couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach. Ghezen, he loved this boy.

“I had the kitchens prepare your favorite of everything. It took a little digging, but I had one of my clerks collect notes on you. Couldn’t really ask you to take notes since, you know.” Wylan fluttered over the dining cart, speaking conversationally even though Jesper spied the blush over his cheeks.

To think Wylan had gone through all of this for him left Jesper temporarily dazed. The intimacy and knowledge of each other it required to know exactly what Jesper needed left him breathless. He loved this boy so much.

After their dinner platters had been put away, Wylan and Jesper leaned contentedly against each other. Jesper carded his hands through Wylan’s soft loose curls and smiled down at him, thinking of the different ways he spent his birthday over the years and finding that tonight outmatched more than a few. This was just right for someone still getting used to the significance of a whole day dedicated to him; a party with all their friends would have been nice, but hit too close as an excuse to lose himself in the drinking and fun. This, sitting here on a plush carpet under the moon and candlelight, boyfriend tucked securely into his arms, was enough for the feeling of gratitude to surge through him. Yes, he was extremely grateful that he existed. If not, he would have never had this amazing moment before him. He knew there would be many more birthdays that he looked forward to, but for now, he was content to sit and enjoy Wylan’s warmth. Maybe turning 18 wasn’t so bad after all.  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave kudos or a comment. thanks a ton loves!


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